Delirium Kisses
by Not A Ghost3
Summary: Erik falls ill and can't take Christine out for Valentine's Day. Fever delirious, he wants to find a way to make it up to her...Modern E/C fluff. Sample entry for the 2nd Annual Phantom's Valentine One-Shot Contest. *3/7/18- Winners posted!*
1. Delirium Kisses

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Phantom of the Opera.**

 **Hello! It's time for the 2nd Annual Phantom's Valentine One-Shot contest! Here's what ya need to know:**

 **Entry Timeline: February 9th- February 28th**

 **Winner's Announced: March 6th (Aiming for this, hopefully it will be before the 6th and not after!)**

 **Awards: There will be 1st, 2nd, and 3rd place winner along with category winners. 1st place gets a review, a favorite, and I'll write them either a chapter of When Words Fail or a one-shot to a theme of their choice and bragging rights, 2nd place gets a review and a favorite and bragging rights, 3rd place gets a review and bragging rights (and a favorite if I really love it!). ALL entries will get a review and be added to my one-shot challenge community. :D**

 **How to enter: Leave a REVIEW on this story, upload your one-shot to this site in the book category of "The Phantom of the Opera", PM and tell me you uploaded it, and put "Entry for Phantom's Valentine One-Shot Contest" somewhere in either the story description or in the author note!**

 **Rules: Story must be a ONE-SHOT. It can be in a collection of one-shots, and the one-shot may continue on into a full-fledged story, but judging will only be on the first chapter. Stories must have a Valentine's theme. One-shots can have any character pairing, any rating (within site rules), and can be any genre! No minimum or maximum word count- just have fun!**

* * *

"Erik, I called the restaurant and….Erik?" Christine trailed off as she was met with silence when she rounded the corner from the backdoor into the kitchen. She looked around herself, listening for any sign of him. The familiar sound of the piano playing out a sweet tune or the scratching of a pencil against paper as he sketched his newest blueprint, but….there was nothing.

 _Achoo!_

Christine whipped her head in the direction of their living room.

 _Found him._

She set her car keys on the counter, the keys loudly _clink-_ ing as she did, before making her way into the living room.

"Erik- did you just…sneeze?"

"Oh…hey…didn't realize you were…were... _a-a-achoo,_ " a sniffle,"home," Erik's congested voice answered.

The sight on the couch was one she had rarely got to see when it came to her husband. With his arm slung over his forehead, Erik was laying on the couch, his legs at an awkward angle since he was in fact _longer_ than the couch. His eyes were groggy and his mask lay discarded on the floor. However, that wasn't the _only_ thing on the floor: piles among piles of tissues lay crumpled up across the floor, and sheet music with fresh written notes were also scattered through the mess on the floor.

Christine sighed.

He was sick and _still_ he had been working!

"Oh…Erik, I knew it couldn't just be your allergies. Here now," she said as she hurried over to him, purse still on her shoulder. She offered one hand out for him to hold on to and put her other hand behind his back to help him sit up. "Now, come with me and I'll get you tucked into bed upstairs—"

Erik shook his head and leaned back against her hand. "No, no I'm fine, I just need to get dressed to go to dinner." He waved her off with his free hand, a tissue still in its grasp.

"No, you're sick. I'll call and cancel—"

"But it's— _achoo_ — Valentine's! We have to! I'll be fine, I just need a little rest and to…." Erik groaned, shutting his eyes for a moment, "put on my shoes and I'll be ready to go, just let me up."

Christine pursed her lips and held him firm on the couch. "I don't think so. If you won't go upstairs you're going to stay on this couch," she told him as she lowered him back down. Sitting down on the arm of the couch, she pushed his damp hair away from his forehead. "Really Erik— I think you're running a fever!"

She could've swore she saw the faintest smirk on his lips.

"Is it because I'm so hot?" Erik's voice whispered, looking up at her from where he lay.

Christine chuckled as she shook her head before placing a kiss on his forehead. "Hmm…so hot, in fact that I'm going to go grab the thermometer out of the cabinet…and maybe call the pharmacy for some medicine. You know the flu has been going around—"

"Ugh…way to ruin the mood…" Erik groaned as he turned his head away from her so that he was staring at the back of the couch.

"There was no mood— you're sick!" Christine shot back. But she couldn't be angry with him, if anything she felt like laughing even more!

"I'm fine, I swear, it's just like I said yesterday, just my allergies…you know it got so warm and then cold again…it messed up my system…I just need…to…to get dressed…."

Christine patted him on the shoulder and stood up as he trailed off, his eyes drooping. She grabbed the blanket that was draped over the back of their recliner and placed it over him. Then, with a smile and a knowing shake of her head, she set off back to the kitchen to call the restaurant to cancel their Valentine reservations for that night and the pharmacy to order some flu medicine.

* * *

The room was dark when he finally cracked open his eyes, and seemed to be somewhat…hazy? He brought his hands up to rub his eyes as a he heard the clock on the wall begin its hourly chiming.

 _Dong….Dong…Dong…_

Erik sighed. Three o'clock.

 _A.M._

With a slight groan he pushed himself up to a sitting position, taking in his surroundings. He was still on the couch encircled by an army of tissues and germs….he could just barely make out the shape of his mask on the coffee table just off to the left in front of him, and in the recliner…

His lips turned up into a smile.

In the recliner slept a beautiful, beautiful angel wrapped in a purple and green quilt.

 _His_ beautiful angel if his mind wasn't fibbing to him.

He glanced at the clock again.

Three o' three in the morning, February 15th—

Erik gasped (which in reality came out as more of a wheeze), he had missed Valentine's day!

Well, not exactly _missed_ it. He did vaguely recall his pretty angel forcing nasty flavored medicine down his throat, not to mention all the water she'd made him drink…but there was also the memory of sweet caresses, and lullabies being sung in his ear by the prettiest voice…

Her voice.

 _Christine_.

 _Oh, of course! That's her name…how do you forget your own wife's name…_

He shivered as he stood to his feet, missing the warmth and comfort of his make-shift couch bed. Slowly he made his way across the room to where Christine slept soundly in the chair.

Well, he had assumed soundly anyway. However, she honestly looked like she'd had a worse night than he'd had. Her hair was tousled and thrown up in a messy bun on top of her head, and her eyebrows were furrowed with concentration as if whatever was going on behind her closed eyes was troubling her.

Erik frowned and reached out his hand. He stroked her hair, letting his fingers linger longer than he usually would allow them to.

"Christine…" Erik said softly, still petting her hair.

"Hmm…?" Christine shifted under his gaze and then burrowed deeper under her covers.

Erik smiled and said her name again, this time moving his hand to her cheek. "Christine…"

Christine squeezed her eyelids and then opened them the tiniest bit. "Erik?" her voice was nothing more than a croak, the early morning grogginess heavily affecting it. "Do you need me to get you something—"

"We missed Valentine's Day," Erik said flatly, his thumb brushing lightly on the tops of her cheeks.

"Oh…don't worry about that," Christine said as she shook her head, her eyes opening a bit wider. "We can have a redo when you're feeling better…" she punctuated her statement with a yawn.

Erik sniffled as he ran his hand down to her arm to where her hand was and pulled. "You love Valentines…I need to make it up to you," he said, much more awake now.

Christine cracked a smile, but didn't stand up. "It's okay, you just go back to sleep…you can make it up to me later, it's still dark out—"

"Dance with me," Erik cut her off, very suddenly as he pulled on her hand again.

"What?" Christine said, laughing slightly.

"C'mon, please," Erik whispered.

Christine studied him for a moment before moving away the quilt and getting up. He had to be sleepwalking…or fever delirious one. The Erik she knew would never do this. But, she obliged him and wrapped her arms around her husband's neck, hugging him close. She felt his hands gently rest on her waist before he began humming a tune she'd never heard before. Most likely something he had come up with on the spot. The world seemed to fall away as she laid her head on his chest, the two of them slowly waltzing around themselves.

Erik stopped humming but their dance continued.

"Do you remember how we met?" Erik said quietly in to her hair, his hands drawing her body closer to his.

"Mhm…" Christine hummed in response, turning her face up to look at him.

"We met on Valentines Day…" Erik continued on as if he hadn't heard Christine answer him.

"I remember," Christine spoke up this time, "it was at Meg's wedding."

She remembered the day vividly, as if it had been yesterday. The red and pink decorations, the mist that had been in the air leftover from the morning rain, the speech she'd been talked into giving, and most of all…she remembered meeting the man in her arms as they both sat like outcasts as the other happy guests enjoyed the wedding reception.

"Meg and _Raoul's_ wedding if I do recall," Erik's voice broke her from her musings.

"Don't remind me," Christine groaned, rolling her eyes.

It was only then that she realized they had stopped dancing and were now just standing in the middle of the dark living room, arms around each other.

"Do you still…miss him?" Erik said cautiously, knowing that he was treading on forbidden 'topic' grounds.

Christine looked down for a moment before looking back up. "No, not for a second…I don't regret a thing. I have you and to me that's…well," she shook her head and stood up on her toes before pressing a kiss to his lips (which he tried to protest, reminding her that he was sick and she was not). "You're worth more than a thousand Raoul Chagnys to me."

Erik toyed with the waist band of her grey sweatpants before speaking. "Really?"

" _Really_."

Erik blinked and then set his chin on top of her head. "Even when I'm sick and can't take you out for Valentines like a normal man?"

Christine laughed and Erik felt her press herself closer to him. "Especially when you're sick and can't take me out like a normal man."

Erik pressed a kiss to the top her head. "You wanna know a secret?"

Christine looked at him again. "Mhm…"

"I love you," Erik whispered.

"I know," Christine said, smiling.

Erik was silent for a minute, before he broke out into a big grin— a very rare sight for Christine. "Did you just quote Star Wars?" Erik laughed, looking her in the eye.

Christine thought for a moment before she joined him in laughing. "You know, I think I did…look you're rubbing off on me!"

"Took long enough— it's been what? Four years?"

Christine nodded as she yawned, a smile still on her lips. "Four wonderful, wonderful years…I love you," and she ended her statement with another kiss to his lips.

"Happy February fifteenth, dear," Erik said once they parted.

"Happy February fifteenth, Erik," Christine shook her head, smiling as she allowed Erik to lead her back to the couch. She laid down beside of him and snuggled close as he wrapped his arm around her. It wasn't long after that her eyelids began to droop, sleep calling to her once again, but not before she had a realization:

With Erik by her side, they could make any day Valentine's day.

* * *

 **The End.**

 **Hey! Nice to see you made it to the bottom! So, for the second part of this when I post the winners- would you guys rather have a one-shot where Christine gets sick and Erik takes care of her (I mean, she did kiss him quite a few times in this story!) or a one-shot about how they met at Meg's wedding (I'm leaning towards this option)? Tell me in your review! Thanks for reading!**


	2. New Beginnings

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Phantom of the Opera.**

 **Well, I'm a day late posting this- but here it is! Erik and Christine's first meeting at Meg's wedding: New Beginnings!**

 **This bonusscene happens four years before _Delirium Kisses_. So Valentine's Day circa 2014 since _Delirium Kisses_ would've been Valentine's Day 2018! **

* * *

"Meg, are you sure you want to get married on _Valentine's_ Day?"

 _"Of course I'm sure— is there something wrong with that?"_

"What? No, no, of course not. It's a great day, very…romantic…"

 _"Good! Because I want you to be my maid of honor, Chrissie!"_

That phone conversation had been six months ago. Six months, fours days and seven hours to be exact, and now she couldn't help but recall it as she stood beside the altar in a soft pink taffeta dress watching her best friend in the whole wide world get married—

To _her_ ex-boyfriend.

Well, to be exact, her ex-fiancé…

Wasn't the world just… _peachy?_

Christine sighed and shifted the two bouquets of red roses that she held in her hands, one for herself and a much larger one that belonged to Meg. The service was dragging on _forever_ …she just wanted to get out of the church as fast as she could.

She could feel _his_ family's eyes on her. Feel them judging her when they should be watching a perfectly nice wedding. She wasn't sure she could stand being ogled at much longer—

She blinked and turned her head back to the happy couple taking their vows.

"Do you, Raoul Devon Chagny, take this woman to have and to hold…in sickness and in health…."

Christine struggled against the urge to roll her eyes. Why did nice, kind, sweet Meg have to marry Raoul? _Raoul_ — of all people! It was as if Meg had never heard of the girl-code in her life. She didn't go around dating Meg's ex-boyfriends. They were off-limits, out-of-bounds…they had even both mutually agreed that they hated Raoul!

Yet, here she stood…at Meg and Raoul's _wedding_ ….

With a shaky breath she looked down at the flowers in her hand again, doing her best to drown their voices out.

She could still hear them.

She raised her head and glanced towards the other side of the altar where the groomsmen stood. Six handsomely dressed men: the first being Raoul's actual brother, then four of them were a mix of Raoul's fraternity brothers, and the last one—

 _Hmm…_

Someone she didn't recognize. He stood a foot or two away from the other groomsmen and his stance made Christine think that he was ready to bolt when the first opportunity presented itself. Tall and lanky…dark hair…and something was just _slightly_ off about his face—

 _Oh don't be ridiculous, Christine, it's just the lighting._

But still, she was curious. She allowed herself to stare, happy to have something to take her mind off of what was happening at the altar between them. The man's long fingers were clasped tightly in front of him, a little too tightly…he looked almost nervous to be standing there. Her eyes drifted from his hands to the red rose pinned to his lapel, and then back to his face. Maybe he had tried using foundation and it was just a shade too dark? Or maybe it was the harsh shadows that he stood in that made his skin look…well…she couldn't quite place it. His cheekbones were high, and his nose wasn't too big, just slightly hooked, and his eyes were—

Christine sucked in a quick breath of air.

A pair of light amber eyes bore into her own as she locked stares with him.

She'd been caught.

She offered him a quick half-smile and then turned her attention back to the flowers, blushing.

 _Heavily blushing_.

She needed this wedding to be over _now_.

* * *

Driving beats coming from the wedding DJ's booth pounded through the speakers. The wedding party had moved outside to a large white tent with false walls and clear plastic "windows" on all four sides. However, the tent walls didn't do much to keep out the damp, foggy air outside. Thankfully it wasn't too cold, but it was still February.

Christine flinched as the flash from the wedding photographer's camera blinded her. She winced and looked over from her spot at the table by the makeshift bar in the corner of the tent.

"Give me a big smile, honey!" the cheery voice of the photographer said, glancing over his camera at Christine. She gave a half smile and lifted her half empty glass at the same time towards the camera. Satisfied, the photographer gave her a thumbs up and continued on.

She wasn't sure how much more of this wedding she could take.

Thankfully she had already muddled through her awkward maid of honor speech and the group photos, but she was still obligated to stay until the end of the reception. She swirled her wine around in her glass, watching it slosh up against the sides before taking a few gulps, finishing it off.

 _Well, there goes the third glass—_

"Do you have any cognac on hand?"

"No sir, sorry about that—"

"Fine, just give me something then…something _strong_."

Christine looked over her shoulder to see who dared join her pity party at the table in the back corner—

She froze.

It was _him_. The guy with the weird foundation lines!

"It's you!" Christine gasped, turning around in her chair.

The man paused and then looked her direction.

"I'm sorry…what?"

Christine shook her head. "Sorry, I just….well, I don't know why…um, you're one of the groomsmen, right?"

He leaned an elbow against the bar. "Unfortunately….and you're the maid of honor. Your point is?"

Christine shrugged and set her glass on the table instead of answering.

What _was_ her point?

"Thanks," the man grumbled as he took his drink from the bartender and then slipped into the seat next to Christine.

Christine's eyes shot over to him.

"You'll have to forgive me, I'm new to this whole socializing thing," he said. He then took a swig of his amber colored drink before his lips pursed. "Disgusting…rich as _they_ are, you'd think they'd at least have decent drinks…" he pushed his drink away and then leaned back in his chair.

"You don't like them either?" Christine almost whispered, leaning closer to him in an attempt for no one else to hear her confession.

"Yes, the drinks are quite nasty. So I guess I should agree; I don't like them either," he cocked his head to the side but didn't meet her gaze, "and the Chagny's are most certainly not my favorite people if that's what you mean. Megan could have done so much better…but of course I'm sure your opinion is a bit different as the ex-fianceé…"

"How did you know that?" Christine demanded quickly, pulling back away from him a bit.

It was his turn to shrug. "I feel the more appropriate question is who _doesn't_ know about it. I mean think of the scandal that went along with it. ' _The governor's son's wedding plans in shambles'…_ I believe that and your photo was plastered on the cover of every magazine, newspaper, and web article at the time."

She glared at him as he smirked.

"Well, that was three years ago, who even cares now?" Christine flicked the side of her empty glass, too embarrassed to defend her case anymore than that.

Surprisingly, the man beside her had no remark. Instead, he took another drink, draining the glass. Christine couldn't help but stare at him, odd as he was.

"It's terrible, but it'll do—"

"How do you know Meg? I don't remember seeing you at any of the bridal parties and you weren't in the photos earlier," Christine asked, cutting him off.

He finally looked over at her, amber eyes meeting blue.

Christine couldn't help but feel trapped, just as she had felt earlier.

"Old family friend."

"You don't look old to me."

"Well, I wouldn't exactly call myself young…"

Christine leaned her chin on top of her fists. "You can't be that old…probably what? Thirty? Thirty-five at most?"

She could see his lips turn up a bit at the edges. "I don't think it's polite to be asking a person's age when you don't even know their name."

Christine clicked her tongue. "Okay then…so what's your name?"

"Erik."

"Erik? That's it? That's all I'm getting?"

He shrugged again, running his finger around the rim of his glass. "For privacy sake…yes." He met her gaze, holding her there captive. "I would ask you yours but I'm afraid the press has ruined that surprise for me."

Christine had resorted back to staring at him. He was strange, that was for sure. Rude, pressing, and an alcohol snob apparently. Not exactly the kind of company she intended to keep, but he was entertaining for the moment. It wasn't as if anyone else was going to leave the dance party in the middle of the floor to pay any mind to her. Why not enjoy the company while it lasted?

"So, Christine, if you don't mind me calling you that— what's our escape plan?" Erik's voice pulled her out of her musings.

She blinked.

"What?"

"I said," he said slowly, as if talking to a child, "what's our escape plan? I think it's obvious that you don't want to be here anymore than I do."

Christine shook her head with a slight laugh. "No…no it's not that. I'm happy for Meg- really! It's just awkward with _his_ family here…but I'm fine!"

"Hmm…" Erik nodded, his tone a bit skeptical. "Drowning yourself in alcohol is really proving that point too."

Christine opened her mouth to retaliate but he kept talking.

"I get it, I'm not the best with people either. If I had it my way I wouldn't be here at all, but," he held his hands up, "here I am…"

Christine held her mouth shut for a few moments longer as the DJ changed songs to a more slower one. Some acoustic ballad from some alternative singer.

"Sickening isn't it how everyone can be so happy when people like you and me are stuck over here washing away our nerves and sorrow? I mean look over there- I haven't seen Annie dance like that in years!" Erik said, looking over at the dancers.

Christine followed his gaze. He was right. They all seemed _so happy_. Meg was practically glowing wrapped up in Raoul's arms as they swept across the dance floor, and Meg's mom was slow dancing with one of Raoul's frat brothers. She was usually so uptight but now she looked so graceful and carefree.

"I don't know, it's not that bad…it does look like they're having fun…"

She could feel his eyes on her.

"Are you saying you'd like to dance?" his velvet voice said. He was quieter in his accusation this time, a gentle shock to his tone.

She paused and then shook her head. "No, not really. It's just interesting to see how people are different on the dance floor—"

Before she knew what was happening he had taken her hand in his and was gently pulling on it. "I'm not much of a dancer, but I think we could both use some cheering up."

Christine looked up at him as he stood, her hand still in his. "I thought you said you weren't a people person?"

"True, attention isn't my favorite…I don't think it's yours either, but you said it yourself. It can't be that bad. We can be uncomfortable together."

Something in his voice had changed, something in his eyes had softened, and those small changes made Christine trust him just enough to follow him.

"Okay," she said hesitantly as she stood up before he led her to the dance floor.

They stood on the very edge of the floor that had been laid down.

"I…I think I put my hand on your waist, but it's not at all proper," Erik mumbled, shy now that they were mingling.

Christine gave a nervous laugh. "I don't think being the maid of honor at your ex-fiancé's wedding is proper either but, to quote you… _here I am_."

Erik nodded and slowly placed his hands around her waist, his hands just barely touching her as she gently placed her hands on his shoulders.

"It's a good thing I'm in heels or else I don't think I'd be able to reach your shoulders," Christine joked, a smile gracing her lips.

Erik's lips turned up just slightly before he began to step back, taking Christine with him. They swayed in place to the music, not moving around like the other dancers did. Christine kept looking at down at her feet, unsure of what to really do. She had never truly slow danced with anyone, especially not with a perfect stranger!

Her life seemed like some kind of a knock-off Hallmark movie.

Except her leading man wasn't exactly a romantic interest, not to mention his strange makeup lines. Slowly she reached up to stroke his cheek to see if she could secretly blend it into his skin but Erik's hand snatched her wrist as soon as she got close to his face.

"What do you think you're doing?" Erik hissed in her ear, lowering her hand back to his shoulder.

"I…I…" she was at a loss for words. He hadn't hurt her, but she was a bit caught-off guard. "I was trying to blend in your makeup lines…" she confessed, blushing.

"Trying to…trying to blend in my makeup lines?"

She nodded.

And then he laughed.

Not a loud, ridiculing laugh, but a deep, short laugh as if he truly thought what she said had been funny.

To say she was confused would be an understatement.

"As sweet as your intentions were, I must advise you to never try to help me with my… _facial makeup_ again. Is that perfectly clear?" His words melted back into a warning, his eyes searing into hers.

"I'm sorry," she apologized, taking a step away from him. "It was rude of me anyway."

Erik shrugged. "No, it was me. Same old same old…" he said to himself under his breath. "I'm afraid I must go...I'll leave you be now," he whispered before taking her left hand and bringing it to his lips to kiss. "Thank you for the dance…even though we were both a poor excuse of a partner."

With that he walked away, becoming just another face in the crowd of party goers. Christine stood there as the song switched again, this time another up-beat tune.

"Erik wait—"

"Chrissie! There you are! So glad you decided to join the party— come dance with us!" Meg chirped behind her ear. Christine whirled around only to be met with the smiling face of her best friend. She gave a half smile and reluctantly followed Meg closer to the middle of the floor where the real dance party was happening.

But her thoughts were consumed with nothing but the know-it-all stranger with the uneven makeup lines that had made her insides do a somersault when he talked.

Little did she know that Erik's thoughts mirrored her own as he drove away from the wedding reception, only regretting that he hadn't the courage to give her the phone number stuffed in his pocket.

* * *

 **Hello again! I loved all the entries and I had a hard time picking the winners, but here they are!**

 **First Place**

 **Every Breath You Take by E.M.K.81**

 **First Runner-Up**

 **Magic (Third one-shot in Gift Wrapping) by Gloriana Femina**

 **Second Runner-Up**

 **La Vie en Rose by AliceHeart247**

 **Best Christine**

 **The Feast of St. Valentine by You Are Love**

 **Best Erik**

 **Counterpoint on the margin of St. Valentine's by AmadErik**

 **Congrats everybody! I had a hard time picking out the winners because I loved them all! I will be going through and adding the stories to my community and favoriting the stories! Thank you all so much for writing these wonderful stories! Until next time!**


End file.
